Motorfalls
by Luithia Clen
Summary: After being dropped into the distant town of Gravity Falls, Mike finds himself hooked into watching after an oddball business and the two youths packaged with it. While looking for a way home, he discovers that there are much darker and more sinister things lurking in this strange and quirky town. Perhaps he'll find a pair of unlikely allies in his new coworkers...
1. Chapter 1

**By the by, Dear Readers**, were you aware that there is an illustrated version of this story? Perhaps not? Well, you can find it through the link at the top of my profile page. Check it out if pictures suit your fancy.

Shameless promotion aside, enjoy Chapter 1! :)

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Chapter 1

Once the spinning in his head had begun to ease up, Mike opened his eyes. He saw blue. A bright blue sky encircled by leaves and branches. Mike squinted. He was in…a forest? As his head continued to clear, he could hear the unfamiliar sounds of bird calls and wind rustling the trees. He raised himself up on his elbows to look around. Surrounding him on all sides,, a thick, rocky forest stretched out into the broad daylight. He definitely wasn't in Motorcity anymore. When his hands brushed the ground, he felt very fine, very warm grains of dirt. Looking down at his feet, he found himself sitting in a large patch of scorched ground, covered in a thin layer of ash.

Mike sighed, slowly pulling himself to his feet. Whatever the Duke had been playing around with, it had thrown him into one heck of a mess. He needed to get back to the Burners. Of course, in order to do that, he needed to know where Detroit was, and in order to do _that_, he needed to know where _he_ was.

"Hopefully not completely in the middle of nowhere," he muttered to himself as he stepped over a fallen trunk and began trekking through the forest.

For a while though, he began to think that _was_ the case. The forest sloped steeply downhill and showed no signs of thinning. There were no roads, no buildings, not even a small footpath to show any sign of human presence. Mike wasn't sure if he'd ever actually been this far from civilization. He blinked up at the sun creeping slowly through the branches above. It was early morning here, wherever "here" was. Just as he was beginning to feel the sunlight heating up the back of his neck, he heard something. It sounded strangely like shouting; angry shouting. Mike listened carefully before bolting off in the direction he estimated it was coming from.

He didn't care if it was a hiker or some crazy old hermit, any person meant civilization somewhere nearby. Making quick progress, he dodged through the foliage as if it were the urban constructs of Detroit. Finally, Mike stepped through a final line of trees and found himself on a wide dirt road. He looked down both directions, and a dozen or so yards from him he found a welcome sight.

A car, rather old and painted a fading red, sat on the side of the road. Its hood was popped and the front door was open. Mike could see the driver's foot beneath the door and heard the engine begin to start up.

It caught and roared with good effort for a few seconds before coughing and sputtering down to a whine. The man in the car shouted some unpleasant things before heaving himself out and stopping at the sight of Mike. He was older, maybe around Jacob's age, and wore a black tuxedo with a necktie. He had thick, squarish glasses which he was now peering through at Mike with, but by far the oddest thing about him was the flat-topped shriner's hat that sat on his head. Optimistically, Mike tried making contact.

"Hey there!" he called out, "Need a hand with your ride?"

"No!" answered the old man immediately, "Get lost, beatnick!"

"Beatnick?" repeated Mike softly to himself as the man ducked back into the car and tried the engine again. Devoid of any better options, Mike stepped closer and persisted.

"Are you sure? I work with cars a lot."

"You a mechanic?" interrupted the man, sticking his head back out.

"Well, technically-"

"Never mind! Forget it!" And back into the car. Mike exhaled lightly through his nose and approached the vehicle anyway. The driver didn't seem to notice. Leaning over, Mike got a better look at the engine. His eyebrows rose. This thing was _ancient_! He was surprised it was holding together much less running a car. _Still,_ he thought,_ it got driven this far, so I suppose…_ The driver tried the engine once more. _There!_ Mike smiled as he reached over.

Half a minute later he slammed the hood shut. The man inside shouted as his head hit the roof of the car, knocking his cap over his eyes.

"Try it now," said Mike, patting the hood. The man, after readjusting his glasses, glowered at him, but turned the key againanyway. The engine sputtered uncertainly before it roared up and leveled off at a satisfying rumble. The man's astonished expression broke into a wide grin.

"Not bad, kid," he said, leaning sideways out of the car.

"Don't mention it," said Mike with a shrug. Then he continued hopefully, "Actually, if it's not too much to ask, could you give me a ride to the nearest town?"

The man kept quiet for a little while as he looked him over in an appraising manner.

"Tell you what," he began with a smile that wasn't entirely comforting, "I'll raise you one on that. How'd you like to earn a couple of bucks?"

"Oh. Well I, uh, kind of have to…" Mike thought for a moment. He was in the middle of nowhere with no food, no money, and no transportation.

"Easiest money you'll ever make, I promise!"

"Sure, I guess?" He'd probably taken worse jobs before.

"Great! Hop in!" The man gestured widely before slamming the door shut and buckling himself in. Mike stepped around a mud puddle and opened the passenger side.

"The name's Stanford Pines by the way," said his new employer as he climbed in.

"Mike Chilton."

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They passed through a good amount of mountainous forest as the road dipped and turned with the land. Eventually, it flattened out and they drove into a small, rural town. To Mike's surprise, they continued straight on out of it. He barely hadgot the chance to determine what technology they had out here before the two of them were back under the trees again. After a relatively short, uphill drive they turned into an open clearing. The car pulled up into a make-shift parking lot in front of a lonely building with a tall totem pole next to it. "Mystery Shack", read Mike off the top of the long, sloping roof, though the "S" in "shack" had broken off and was dangling halfway down it.

"Say, Stan?" asked Mike as the engine shut off.

"Come on, kid, on a tight schedule here," Stan said briefly before exiting the car. Mike stepped outside onto the sundried dirt and looked up at the bizarre, question mark-shaped weather vane above the entrance.

"This has been one crazy week, let me tell you," began Stan as he walked onto the small porch, "I get this message calling me out of town for the weekend, which just _happens_ to be on the same days that both Soos and Wendy have off. Gotta remind myself to never let a stunt like _that_ happen again." Mike followed him underneath a large sign that read 'Gift Shop', beginning to question what, exactly, he had signed up for.

"So I'm trying to tell this guy that I can't just up and close my place like that, but he just keeps sayin' 'Oh no, Stan, you can't pass up a chance like _this_.' And all at the same time I'm trying to get this dumb Mystery Fair set up…"

A bland-looking vending machine and a freezer sat on either side of the door that Stan was currently trying to unlock.

"And then, wouldn't you know it, my niece goes and gets a new pet without warning, so now I have to deal with _that_. All in all, lucky I caught you when I did."

Stan finally shoved the door open and stepped inside. Mike followed him into a dusty, barely organized gift shop. Walking up to the front counter, Stan dropped his keys next to the cash register and stepped back, looking around the room.

"Let's see. Store hours are on the door, make sure no one steals anything, don't let the goat inside…Oh!" He scooped up a large duffle bag from behind the counter and turned to Mike. "And if anyone asks about a missing matryoshka doll, you don't know anything about it. ANYTHING."

"Al…right then," said Mike uncertainly, "But what did you want me to-?"

"DON'T BURN THE HOUSE DOWN, KIDS!" Stan shouted to the ceiling before striding towards the door.

"Woah, woah, hang on a second," Mike tried to interject before he left, "What exactly am I doing for you again?" Stan looked back at him from behind an almost-closed door.

"Watching the Mystery Shack for me, what do you think I've been sayin'? See you in a couple of days!" he finished, promptly shutting the door.

"…Oh," was all Mike could say in response.

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Thanks much for reading! Chapter two is on it's way!

As soon as I edit the bejeezus out of it that is. Until then! c:


	2. Chapter 2

Ahaha illustrating takes longer than you'd think - -;... BUT HERE YOU GO! Enjoy!

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Mike turned to observe his new workplace. The store looked to be a sort of weird, paranormal-themed antique shop. There were stone tablets with symbols all over them, (presumably) fake skulls of different sizes and species, and what appeared to be a jar of eyeballs sitting on the front counter. T-shirts and other memorabilia, all bearing "Mystery Shack", were hung on the walls and off of stands. Half of the hand-painted signs were misspelled.

He folded his arms and leaned against the counter. He could technically leave. He hadn't actually been paid for anything and getting back to Motorcity _was_ more important. But that would still leave him in the middle of nowhere with no food, no money, and no transportation. He sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. May as well look around. Pushing off the counter with his elbows, he headed towards the door in the back that read "Employees Only" in large, red letters.

He opened it and, walking through, found himself in a living area of sorts. A small round table stood in the corner nearest to him with an old lamp hanging over it. On the opposite end of the room there was an aquarium, a TV against the wall, and a…what? Mike looked again, needing to refocus for a second to see the girl sitting in the chair. Well, not 'sitting' exactly. Her legs were on the seat with her feet up against the back of the chair, and her hands gripped onto the armrests, letting her head hang down to look underneath the base. At his entrance, she lifted her head and stared at him through the long hair that half fell over her face.

"Um." Mike tried his best to look like he hadn't just barged into someone else's home. "Hey there."

The girl continued to stare at him upside-down for a few moments, then kicked off of the chair and planted her feet on the ground. She crouched down and frantically ran her hands over her hair before standing up straight and smoothing out her skirt and large, lime-green sweater. The stitched design of a pink cupcake was on the front of it.

"Hello!" she said, smiling brightly with her hands clasped behind her.

"Hi. Sorry, do you live here?" asked Mike.

"Mm-hm," said the girl with a nod. After a pause, her smile fell. "Wait, did Grunkle Stan just leave?"

"Um, yeah. I think he just walked out the door," he replied, following with a nervous laugh. _Grunkle?_

"Oh," she said, "So…does that mean you're working at the Shack now?"

"I guess it does. For the time being, anyway."

The girl beamed up at him and clapped her hands together.

"Well then, Mister, ah…" She gestured at him to finish her sentence.

"Chilton."

"Mister Chilton! I'm Mabel. Crafting expert and people's-day-brighten-upper extraordinaire!" She threw her arms up with a flair and waited expectantly.

"…Oh!" Mike realized after a moment. "Mike Chilton. Um, automobile expert and driver extraordinaire."

"Ooo, really?!" replied Mabel excitedly, "Do you have a cool car?"

"Sure do. Unfortunately she's, ah, not with me today," said Mike, shrugging a little sadly.

"Oh, that's too bad," she said sympathetically before brightening up again, "Anyway, Mister Chilton-"

"Mike's fine."

"Mike," she repeated, giggling inexplicably before continuing, "I don't think we've met. Have you been in Gravity Falls long?"

"No, not long at all. I'd been meaning to ask that actuallyabout that…" He hesitated for a moment, knowing how bizarre his next question was going to sound. "Which state are we in?" Assuming they were still _in_ the states. He really hoped they were still in the states.

"Oregon," answered the girl without much hesitation, "Or we were the last time I checked." She looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "Of course, we may have moved since then." Smiling, she returned her gaze to him. "But I kinda doubt it."

"Ah," mumbled Mike. Oregon? That was somewhere out west, wasn't it? He tried to sum up the miles he would need to travel in his head. 'Mess' didn't do this situation justice.

"Is something wrong?"

Mike popped his head back up, realizing that he had been staring at the ground dismally. Mabel was looking at him with curiosity. "What? Oh, no." He tried to smile back at the girl. "Sorry, I was just thinking about something." Mike didn't have the heart to throw his problems onto a cheerful little girl he had just met.

"Oh. Okay then," she said, grinning again, "Anyways I, Mabel, would be happy to be your guide to the many and mysterious wonders of the Mystery Shack." She lowered her voice and waved her hands dramatically at the end, then continued in a normal tone, "If you would follow me, please." She hopped onto the steps leading to the hallway at the end of the room and turned towards him.

"This is the living room!" she announced with wide-spread arms. She pointed to each item while naming it. "That's the TV. Over there is the table. This is the TV chair." She spun halfway around. "This is the front door. Wait." She paused. "Maybe it should be called the back door? But we kind of use it like a front door." Mabel tapped her lips with a pondering expression on her face.

"You could always just call it the door," suggested Mike after she hadn't said anything for a while. Still there was no reply.

"Mabel?" he walked around to look at her face.

"OH!" she exclaimed, startling him, "I was looking for Waddles! Um- um-" She hurriedly looked around. "Here!" Mabel grabbed Mike's sleeve and led him over to the armchair. "You can sit right here and I'll be back in just a bit, okay?" She started to head towards the Gift Shop.

"Actually," interjected Mike. Mabel halted mid-step with one of her feet in the air. "I could help you look if you'd like."

"Aww! Aren't you a gem!" said Mabel, beaming up at him, "Okay, then." She grabbed his sleeve again, leading him down the hall this time. "You can search the kitchen…" She gestured to the white room. "While I go check the shop!" With that, she skipped back towards the living room.

"Sure thing!" Mike called after her. Then after half a step into the room, he paused and leaned back out. "_Who_ is Waddles, again?!"

"_My Soul Mate!_" he heard her shout from another corner of the house.

"…Fair enough." Mike turned to the task at hand.

The kitchen's only visible cooking features were a refrigerator with a single door and an old microwave. Aside from that, the rest of the room looked more like a work area with an unvarnished white table and various hardware tools lining the walls. It didn't seem to Mike like there were many places someone could hide, but he searched around anyway. He checked around a short cabinet in the corner, under the table and chairs, and behind the door. Whoever it was, they weren't out in the open. Figuring he might as well be thorough, Mike knelt down next to the kitchen counter and reached over to open the cupboard.

Just as he touched the handle, the door flew open, smacking him on the forehead, and something rocketed out and skidded into the hall. Mike clutched his head and scrambled after it. It might have just been his imagination, but he swore that thing just _grunted_ at him. He threw his hand out to keep from slamming into the wall outside the kitchen and just caught a glimpse of the thing vanishing around the end of the hall. It took him three long strides to reach the living room entrance and, grabbing the doorframe, he turned into the room.

In the center of the floor was a round, pink animal, half twisted around to look at him. It backed up and crouched low, preparing to take off again. Mike was about to dive for it, but Mabel moved first. She leapt out from around the corner, snagging it around the middle and tumbling onto the floor.

"WADDLES!" she exclaimed with delight, "_There_ you are, you little rapscallion!" She held him belly-up on top of her, arms wrapped around him securely. Waddles, for his part, seemed perfectly comfortable with this and made no motion to escape.

"So that is Waddles," said Mike, stepping onto the carpet, "That's good. I was worried for a second that you might have a mutant rat problem."

"You're just a bundle of trouble, aren't you?" said Mabel, nuzzling her pet's head. She lifted Waddles towards Mike.

"Waddles, this is Mike." Then she turned him towards her. "Can you say 'Mike'?" Waddles made a noise somewhere between a snort and a grunt. Mabel let out an excited cry and hugged him, praising him as if he had just spoken perfect English. She then held him out again and said with a much straighter face, "Don't hit him in the head anymore, okay?"

Mike realized that he still had his hand to his forehead. He quickly dropped it.

"It was an accident," he said simply, shrugging it off.

"I know," replied Mabel, shooting him a braces-filled smile, "Waddles wouldn't do that on purpose." She paused for a moment, looking at Mike. "What's with the goofy face?" she laughed, "Never seen a pig before?"

Mike, who had indeed been staring at Waddles (though he wasn't sure what "goofy face" she was talking about), started a bit.

"Actually, no," he admitted, "There's not much in the way of farmland where I'm from." He had only seen pictures of them, usually advertising food. Mabel gasped.

"You poor thing!" she exclaimed, hugging Waddles closer. Mike smiled and shrugged lightly.

"So." He knelt down and rubbed the soft, stretchy skin on Waddles' head. "Soul Mate, eh?"

"Yep! We do everything together. _Everything_," she repeated dramatically, pulling Waddles' face towards her own and holding it there.

"TOUR!" Mabel popped onto her feet. "We should get back to that!" She hopped over to where she had been standing some fifteen minutes before in the hallway. "…Where was I?"

"The front door," answered Mike, stepping back over with her, "Or the back door. Or both."

"Right!" She set Waddles at her side and picked up where she had left off, again pointing to things as she named them. "This is the front-back-whatever door. This is the hallway." She turned to her left. "These are the stairs. That's the railing. That's Dipper. Down there's the museum…"

Mike, who had been looking obediently at each thing she pointed out, did a double take to look at the person she had casually addressed as "Dipper". The boy at the top of the stairs was staring down at them with an expression of disbelief. He seemed to be about Mabel's age and looked as if he had just gotten out of bed.

"Hey," said Mike with a small wave.

"What's up," said Dipper habitually after a pause, though his face was a mixture of suspicion and caution. He quickly descended the stairs. "Could you, uh, give us a minute?" He slipped past them, grabbing Mabel by her sleeve.

"That's the floor-OW! STEPS! Careful on the steps!"

"Mabel, we need to talk," he said and pulled her past the TV area and into the shop.

"You're interrupting the tour, Dipper!" was the last Mabel could get out before the pair disappeared into the other room.

Once again, Mike was left alone in a strange room with little idea of what he was supposed to do next. Glancing down, he noticed that Waddles was staring up at him with dark, round eyes. The pig twitched his nose slightly then stood up and walked across the room, then around the corner. Mike followed him. Waddles, with no particular sense of urgency, sat next to the gift shop door and waited.

_Nice call_, thought Mike as he leaned against the opposite doorframe, crossing his ankles. Pretty soon, he began to hear raised voices. He stepped over and listened through the wood more intently.

"_Because_ you don't just _let_ random people you just met into the house!"

"Come on, Dipper, he's a cool guy! Besides, Grunkle Stan was the one who hired him."

"He what-? Augh, look, just think about it. Every time we meet someone that we've never seen in town before, they end up being evil, or supernatural, or both!"

"Are you suggesting that Mike is a bunch of gnomes?"

"What? No. I mean- okay, _maybe_, but that's beside the point."

A loud, drawn-out gasp interrupted the conversation.

"Do you think that he might be a vampire?!"

"Mabel, you're missing the point here!"

The 'employee's only' door clicked and swung open.

"You know, I could be mistaken," said Mike thoughtfully, resting his hand on the top of the door, "But I think I might be a _little_ too big for that gnome theory."

The two children, one of them characteristically pleased to see him and the other looking a bit panicked, were squatting next to the counter.

"No, see, what they do is stack up underneath clothes so that they _look_ bi-" Dipper clapped his hand over the girl's mouth.

"We, uh, we weren't being serious about that," he said with a weak smile. Then he stood up, laughing awkwardly and muttering a jumble of sentences, "Just kidding…" "…inside joke." He eventually quieted down and leaned back against the counter, staring at the floor with an intense look on his face. Mike looked from him to Mable, who smiled and waved, and back to him.

"You two are here on your own, aren't you?" he said finally.

"For the moment, yeah," replied Mabel as she rocked back and forth on her heels.

"Huh," Mike sighed through his nose, "I guess that makes up my mind for me then." Mabel tilted her head at him questioningly.

"Well, I can't just leave two kids by themselves, can I?" he explained, "Not with a clear consciousconscience, anyway." The contrasting looks that the two children gave him were almost comical. Mabel's was one of eagerness and excitement, while Dipper's bordered along surprise and shock. Mike addressed the latter.

"Look, I can understand your anxiety," he said and tried to smile reassuringly, "I'll just keep to the gift shop if it'd make you feel better."

"What? No, you don't-," Dipper's expression looked almost guilty and color flushed over his cheeks as he tried to object.

"Aw, Mike, don't let Dipper bother you," Mable cut in, "He's always paranoid. Especially these days. You should see him blocking off the bedroom door at night."

"Mabel!" Dipper whispered harshly, his face heating up even more.

"Come on, Dipper!" she said, for once with genuine disapproval in her voice, "You've barely even talked to the guy. The least you could do is give him a chance." For a moment, Mike thought he was going to start arguing with her again. Instead, the boy turned back towards him, rubbing his elbow awkwardly.

"Look, I-." He paused, closing his eyes and exhaled. "Sorry. It's just…there's a _lot_ of strange stuff that goes on around here." Mike thought he looked distracted, as if deep in a memory. "Sometimes it's hard to know who to trust."

"Yeah, I know the feeling," said Mike with an almost cynical smile, "I'll stick to the ground floor then, alright?" Dipper looked at him skeptically, but there were hints of a smile there,; like he wasn't sure if he should be taking that last part seriously or not.

"Great! So we're all friends now, right? Right?" Mabel looked between the two of them eagerly, swinging her loose sleeves back and forth.

"More or less I think," answered Mike.

"Awesome! 'Cuz we still have a tour to finish!" She trotted over to Mike, grabbing him by the sleeve once more, and guided him back into the house.

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I had a blast writing this one so I hope you had a blast reading it. Until next time! :D


	3. Chapter 3

We're just going to ignore that last date m'kay? M'kay.

Thanks very much to the new reviewers and followers! :D Glad you like it so far!

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The cool morning had given way to a hot, sunny afternoon, but the mountain breeze kept the temperature pleasant. The citizens of Gravity Falls went about their business, enjoying the summer weather. Woodpeckers, birds and other small animals were chattering and flitting between trees as the people ate outside and carried on with their daily lives. Mike did not see any of this. Mike was currently sitting at the sales counter of the Mystery Shack gift shop with his chin resting on the table. His boredom had reached the extent where he was contemplating if combining a shelving unit, the vending machine, and the stone wheels in the corner into a go-kart would get him fired.

"Hey, Mike."

Mike lurched upwards in his seat and banged his knee on the bottom of the counter.

"You okay?" Mabel asked him. He had reverted to his previous position with his head on the desk, this time facedown and gripping his knee. Mabel had been standing to the right and slightly behind him.

"When did you get here?" he asked through his teeth.

"Twelve and a half years ago," she answered plainly. Mike opened his mouth to reply but thought better of it. Instead, he sat up and asked a different question.

"Did you need something?"

Mabel looked from side to side cautiously and leaned closer. "I have an emergency," she told him in a soft, earnest voice.

"What kind of emergency?"

"A crafting emergency," she answered slowly, with a grave face, "I'm out of yarn." Mike blinked.

"…You need to buy some more?"

Mabel nodded, her expression unchanged.

"I suppose we'll need to go into town for that, huh?" He watched her stone face break into a wide smile as she threw her arms into the air.

"Indeed we shall!" she announced loudly.

"Alright then." Mike stood up and tested his leg. "I hope you don't mind walking, though."

"Can't you drive?" she asked.

"Well, I could, but I don't have my car with me remember?"

"You have Soos's car."

"Come again?"

Mabel was hanging off the edge of the counter now with her head falling back. "Soos left his truck here for the weekend. It's near the museum entrance."

"Oh. Well, that's good," Mike replied with mild surprise, "I don't suppose he left the keys here too, did he?"

"Yoink!" Mabel quickly reached under the counter and pulled out a small set of keys. "Ta-da!"

"Nice," said Mike as she dropped them into his hand. He rubbed the base of the ignition key with his thumb. "I'm set to head out now if you are." He pushed the stool in with his foot and headed towards the exit, gently tossing the keys in his hand. Halfway to the door, he remembered something and stopped.

"Actually, Mabel," he began, turning back, "I don't really have any money, so-" His sentence cut off when he saw her standing there with a wad of dollar bills in her hand.

"Mabel," he said slowly, "Is that your money?"

"Kind of."

"…Is that your uncle's money?"

"Might be."

"…Is he going to miss it?"

"Probably not," said Mabel, turning the wad over in her hands, "I borrowed it from his stash two weeks ago and stashed it upstairs for crafting emergencies. He hasn't said anything yet, so…" She shrugged. Mike looked from the keys back to her.

"You're a very resourceful girl," he said with a smile. Mabel squeaked happily and hopped in place for a few moments before she trotted over to the exit.

"Kay-kay!" she said after a few moments of silent jubilation, "Let's go!"

"Did your brother want to come?" asked Mike as they stepped out onto the porch. Mabel tilted her head almost down to her shoulder.

"Dunno. I didn't ask." She jumped off the steps and rounded the shack to the back door (or was it the front door?). Mike watched her crane her neck to look up at a tall stained-glass window near the roof of the building. She searched the area around her for something, bending low to the ground. Eventually she straightened up, pulled her arm back and— was that a tire iron? Mike barely had time to shout her name before she let the heavy tool fly. It arced up towards the window and hit the wooden frame below it with an ear-ringing 'thunk'. Left rather speechless, Mike didn't get the chance to even _attempt_ to reprimand her before one of the window panes opened.

"Mabel?" asked Dipper when he saw her two stories below, "Did you just throw a brick at the house?"

"We're going to places to get stuff, Dipper, wanna come?" she called up.

"Umm." Dipper drummed his fingers on the window sill. "I don't know, I kind of need to-"

"Or are you too busy hanging out with your imaginary ghost friend?"

Dipper pulled his mouth into a distinct, thin lipped frown. He shut the windows.

"He'll be down in a minute," she told Mike and led him further around the building. After tossing an odd glance at the sofa sitting on the back porch, Mike followed her to a large, brown, and highly dented pickup truck on the other side of the shack. Sure enough, within a few minutes Dipper had joined them outside. As he and his, Mike had recently learned, twin sister climbed into the front of the truck, Mike heard him mutter something like "not imaginary _or_ my friend".

"Yeah, yeah. Come on, you need to get out of the house anyway," she said, punching him lightly on the shoulder as she settled into the window seat. Mike got in and started the engine. He grimaced a little.

"Either of you know the last time this girl had a tune-up?" he asked them. The twins looked at each other and shrugged.

"I'll, uh, check on it when we get there." After making sure everyone was buckled in, Mike shifted into reverse and pulled out of the parking lot. He took the entrance he had arrived through earlier that morning and headed into the trees. The road was clear; no one else seemed to be out driving at this time, and in spite of the hills and curves of the mountains, the trip was relatively smooth. Mike was beginning to feel almost relaxed now back in his element.

"Um, Mike?" he heard Dipper address him in a nervous tone. Mike glanced to the passenger's side, noticing that Mabel was leaning all the way forward and staring ahead excitedly, while her brother had pushed himself back into his seat and was clinging to the safety belt.

"What's up?" asked Mike, bringing his eyes back to the road.

"Don't you think you're going a little fast?"

Mike almost laughed at the irony of his passenger's question, but reserved it to a smile. "Maybe, but I don't trust her to go much faster than this," he replied.

"What?!" Dipper leaned over in his seat to read the speedometer. "You're going forty over the speed limit!"

"Speed limit?" Mike repeated softly as his smile vanished. _Oh crap_, he thought after a realization, _this place really is out in the boonies._ Reluctantly, he eased his foot off the gas pedal and let the truck slow to a comparative crawl, apologizing. Dipper sighed with relief and Mabel expressed a noise of disappointment as they pulled into town.

Following Mabel's directions, Mike navigated the streets until they finally passed the crafting store. He found an empty lot a block away from it and parked there. After getting out, Mike popped the hood and gave it a look over while the twins unloaded from the car.

"So…how is it?" asked Dipper after Mike hadn't spoken for a few minutes. Mike tapped his finger on the metal before answering.

"Better than expected," he admitted, "She's pretty well taken care of, it looks like." He shut the hood firmly. "Some of the parts are just too old, though. Wonder if there's a scrap shop around here." He muttered the last part to himself, rubbing his neck.

"Crafting emergency?" they heard Mabel ask loudly. She was standing on the sidewalk already, waiting for them.

"Crafting emergency," answered Mike, snapping his fingers to point towards her before they followed.

The town was bustling in spite of the heat of the day. A few passersby shot Mike an odd look, but soon turned back to their own business. In a short while they reached the shop.

"Dipper, did you want to come in?" Mabel asked him. Dipper looked at the bright pink knitted animals and pastel-colored dishware in the window.

"Um…I'll pass, thanks," he answered, "I'll just be at the arcade for a little bit." He nodded towards the building down the road with a large space ship on its front.

"Okey-dokey. Mike, did _you_ want to come in?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Did you need me to come in?" he responded neutrally.

Mabel tilted her head back to look upside-down through the store window.

"Nah, I can get everything on my own."

"I'll just wait for you out here, if that's okay," said Mike. She didn't go in right away, however, and folded her arms with an expression of concentration on her face. Then her eyes popped open and she grinned brightly.

"Mabel", Dipper interjected warningly as she stepped over and picked up one of Mike's hands in both of hers.

"Bleep," she said, dropping a portion of the money she had shown earlier into his palm. Mike's face fell a little.

"Mabel, I can't-"

"Ah!" She held up a hand to stop his protest, then closed his fingers around the bills and patted them. "Get yourself something nice." Mike found it difficult to say much more than "thanks". Mabel, quite pleased with herself, turned on her heel and headed inside.

Mike pocketed the forced-gift and turned to Dipper. "So, we meet back here in half an hour or so?"

"Alright," said Dipper. "Mabel! We'll be back in half an hour!" he shouted into the store at a larger than necessary volume.

"Okay!" Mike heard her answer at an equally larger than necessary volume. The look the shop keeper gave him would've intimidated a grizzly bear.

He and Dipper walked down the remainder of the sidewalk together. Not much was said. It was almost uncomfortably quiet without Mabel around. Dipper was walking with his hands in his pockets and his head lowered. Every once in a while he would look back, as if he was watching for something. Mike decided to try and strike up a conversation.

"Is she always that hard to say no to?" Mike asked him. Dipper shrugged and failed to hide a little smile.

"She is if you're not used to her." After a pause, he asked, "Where was it you said you were from?" Mike could hear the ever-so-subtle tone of suspicion in his voice.

"Transylvania," he answered. Mike had to bite his tongue for a second to keep from laughing at the look Dipper gave him.

"That was a joke."

"I…kinda figured." The boy forced a nervous laugh.

"I'm from Motorcity."

Dipper looked at him questioningly this time.

"Michigan?" Mike tried again.

"Oh! Detroit, right?" said Dipper after a pause, "I didn't think people called it that so much."

"Depends on the people," said Mike, some of his humor vanishing.

They had reached the intersection, but before crossing the street, Dipper pointed his thumb further down the road. "There's a mechanic's down there on your second left, by the way."

"Oh!" Mike followed where he was gesturing with some surprise. "Thanks."

"Well, see you later," said Dipper.

"Later," repeated Mike with a friendly wave. Dipper returned the smile a little awkwardly before using the lull in traffic to run across the road.

Mike continued on, ignoring the curious and often cautious glances he was getting. He walked past many unfamiliar buildings in this distant and rather strange little town. Factually, he was no better off than he had been this morning, yet a small smile played at his lips.

"Nice kids," he admitted.

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I promise things will actually start happening in the next chapter...Setup is important too. - -;


	4. Chapter 4

Many thanks to everyone who read and followed, and thanks especially to those of you who reviewed. :D I'm super happy you're enjoying it.

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Dipper hadn't been lying when he told his sister he was going to the arcade. He'd walked all the way there and had even gone inside. If those two teens hadn't said anything he would have spent the next half hour there, but they had. They had called out when he was at the change machine and asked him a question, reminding Dipper of something he'd been trying to push out of his head for the past few days.

Dipper was now walking along the sidewalk across town with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the ground. He didn't want to think about the arcade or what had been said to him. He didn't want to think about that morning or the night before, or the day before that. He didn't want to think about anything. Unfortunately, when someone uses their brain as constantly as Dipper, it becomes almost impossible to turn off. His mind continued to wander to places he didn't want, and he thought about the past few days over and over. He rubbed the hair beneath his cap furiously.

His eyes were still locked on the ground as he walked, and he didn't pay attention to anything happening around him. That is, until he found his own small, midday shadow suddenly being engulfed by another. Dipper felt his heart lurch forward into his ribs. Whatever the shadow belonged to, it was big, with inhumanly sharp angles in its shoulders and head. Dipper whipped around to face it, but found nothing. The street behind him was empty except for a woman taping up posters on the side of one of the buildings. She gave him an odd, suspicious look and then returned to her work.

Dipper bit his lip and turned back, continuing down the road at a much quicker rate. This was ridiculous. He wasn't crazy…was he? Dipper shook his head as he reached the next intersection and looked up at the street names.

"Oh," he found himself saying aloud. This was the road he had directed the freeloader down. _Mike_, he mentally corrected himself. Just because freaky things were going on didn't mean he had to be rude to the guy who was probably nicer than 80% of the people in Gravity Falls, even if he had arrived by unexplained means. _Of course, all of that might just be a front._ Dipper told his paranoia to shut up.

He considered walking down that road for a moment. "To do what?" he asked himself. Tell someone that he thought he was being stalked by some enigmatic monster? Dipper shook his head. No. He had to confess, the thing didn't seem to show up as much when he was around other people. That and Dipper had a feeling that Mike wouldn't ask him too many questions if he didn't want to talk about it.

Dipper chewed his lip a little as he turned onto the adjacent road, but he never found out if going to the mechanic's would have been a good idea or not. A few buildings down, there was a small bookstore. Its front door opened just as he reached it, and the man who was exiting saw him and waved with a friendly smile. Dipper was fairly certain he had seen him somewhere recently, so he smiled and waved back awkwardly. A second before the man spoke to him, Dipper remembered where, but it was too late.

"So, Dipper, chase any imaginary goblins lately?" asked the man. He hadn't been as blunt as the teenagers at the arcade, but Dipper immediately forgot all about the mechanic's.

He knew he was about to respond with something he would regret, so Dipper turned back towards the main road. He could hear the guy laughing and saying something about it being a joke, but that didn't help his nerves. He kept his head lowered and pulled the brim of his hat down to hide the feverish color spreading across his face until he had rounded the corner.

Dipper didn't lift his eyes from the sidewalk until he was a number of blocks away from the book store. To his surprise, he found himself rather close to the crafting shop they had left Mabel at. He didn't really want to talk to anyone right now, not even his own sister, but there wasn't anywhere else he could see himself going.

Dipper was aware he was coming back early. He probably hadn't been gone more than fifteen minutes, but when he got closer to the store, he noticed that Mabel was already outside waiting. She held a bulging paper bag in her arms and was nodding her head to some non-existent tune. Dipper didn't make any motion to grab her attention, but she noticed him anyway. She grinned and waved enthusiastically as she called out his name. It was a little ridiculous considering they weren't even one building apart, and Dipper found himself beginning to smile. Then he stopped.

From the alley behind her there emerged a shadow; a long, rippling shadow whose end proceeded to split into five sharp points. If Dipper's heart had been jumping into his ribcage before, it was now leaping out of his chest.

"Mabel!" He nearly tripped over his own feet as he broke into a run.

As Mabel stared at him, her arm still up in the air, and the hand began to close. Its fingers bent with the curve of her neck.

"_Behind you!_"

Mabel turned her head. The arm melted away where her eyes were about to pass over it, until it had vanished completely. She stood still for a moment.

"What is-" she began before Dipper pushed her out towards the road.

"Dipper?" Mabel found herself looking at the back of his head as he stood between her and the empty, shaded alleyway.

"Stay out in the street!" he told her, frantically scanning the area between the buildings, "I think it sticks to darker places."

"Dipper," she repeated with a hint of annoyance.

"I _knew_ we shouldn't have come into town today."

"Dipper!"

Dipper turned to look at his sister. He expected her to be mad at him, but her expression looked more saddened than anything else. There was irritation there, yet also concern. Without a word, she took him by the wrist and led him over to the sunlit side of the store, off of the street and away from bystanders. There she stopped, shifting her purchases in her arms and sighing.

"Is this about that shadow monster thing again?" she asked.

"…It was right behind you," muttered Dipper.

"Yeah, yeah," she said, brushing off his comment, "Look-"

"I'm _serious!_" he shouted, not caring what looks they got.

"Come on, Dipper! You've been at this for four days now! You need to chill already!"

"And what, just let us get killed by some supernatural ghost thing?" He pointed at her accusingly. "And what's with you? You believed me at first, why is now so different?"

"I thought it was a joke!" Mabel shot back, "I thought you were trying to mess with Grunkle Stan! It was kind of fun at first, but now you're really starting to scare me, Dipper!" The anger in her eyes had all but vanished. She really did look genuinely worried. Still, he wasn't going to let guilt beat out what he knew he saw.

"I'm not crazy."

"I never said you were!" she said desperately, "I just-…I don't know, maybe you've been reading that book too much. I mean, you've got your nose in it all the time."

Dipper unconsciously touched his jacket. He could feel the hard spine of the novel underneath. He pressed his lips together and dropped his hand. Then he turned and walked away.

"Dipper?" he heard her call after him, but he continued down the road, "Dipper, we have to wait for Mike!"

He didn't stop. He didn't care. If the one person he thought he _could_ trust in Gravity Falls didn't believe him, why should he bother?

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Moood shift? Kinda. Thanks for reading!


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